


Lonely Boy/Safe and Sound

by mtothedestiel



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Steve, Bottom Steve Rogers, Crying, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dating, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Relationship, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Making Out, Multiple Orgasms, Past Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Top Sam Wilson, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-17
Updated: 2015-04-17
Packaged: 2018-03-23 10:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3764794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is seeing someone for the first time in seventy years.  Sam Wilson might just be the man to bring him back to the land of the living.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lonely Boy/Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [destielpasta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielpasta/gifts).



> I have a lot of feelings about this fic but here's a few I thought were important to share:  
> -this fic is a pwp, set somewhere in CA:tws after Steve and Sam meet but before the action gets started. Manipulate the timeline as you see fit.  
> -I tagged for dom/sub but this is NOT a BDSM fic. I'm merely tagging for Steve's headspace at certain moments in the fic  
> -I tagged for past Steve/Bucky. Bucky is only mentioned by name once and it's fleeting so if stucky isn't your pairing don't worry, this is firmly Samsteve
> 
> Enjoy! (Also a very early Happy Birthday to destielpasta! I'm gonna drag you into the marvel fandom one samsteve ficlet at a time ;p)

 

Sam Wilson knows how to cook.  Chicken and Bisquick dumplings and green beans in some kind of spicy sauce that Steve can’t get enough of.  Sam takes the compliment and keeps spooning out helpings until even Steve’s bottomless appetite is satisfied.  It’s a real dinner date, at a table with a cloth on it and everything.  They’re eating in at Sam’s house, which is like everything else that Steve associates with Sam: warm and clean and real, with a few piles of mail where it shouldn’t be and a fridge covered in candid family photos held up with chipped novelty magnets.

Sam also knows how to kiss.  Slow, and firm, with tongue and plenty of breaks to rub noses and bite at Steve’s full bottom lip.  Like there’s nowhere in the world Sam Wilson would rather be than right here making time with Steve Rogers.  The table is cleared, the dishes are done, and Steve is caught between the kitchen and the living room in a hold it doesn’t even cross his mind to break.  He’s spent the last couple of weeks learning how to kiss Sam back. 

It’s been a practical study.

Now they’re at a cross roads.  They’ve never gone further than this, mouths slanted together and hands roaming above the waist.  Any second now Sam is gonna slow things down, start putting more space between the wet presses of their mouths, until it’s just a quick peck on the lips and goodnight.  Unless, _unless_ -

“I don’t wanna stop,” Steve slurs, drunk on the heat of Sam’s mouth and his warm body pressing him up against a door frame, “Is that okay?  Can we-“

Sam’s smile is slow, but Steve can feel the flush bloom in his cheeks even if the pink is hidden behind Sam’s dark brown skin. 

“Do you want to stay the night with me?” Sam asks, like the invitation was fucking his idea in the first place.  Steve nods, grinning like a dope as they get back to kissing. 

Only now the kissing is just an appetizer.  Kissing Sam is just taste of what’s to come and Steve is coming to realize that he’s _starving_.

Steve’s face heats as Sam grinds into the crease of his hip.  Even with two layers of denim in between he can feel Sam’s cock hardening against him, and it makes him groan, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

“Would you,” Steve asks, hands stumbling over the thick curve of Sam’s waist, “Would you top me?  I mean, I don’t know if we’ve got the stuff for that but I-”

“I’ve got the stuff,” Sam says, tugging Steve’s face back so they can see eye to eye, “That what you want, Steve?”

That’s Sam’s serious face, his consent face.  Steve loves him a little bit for it.  Until today Steve was the one tapping the brakes.  Taking things slow.  Maybe too slow, if the tremble in his hands is anything to go by.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, and something tightly wound inside him starts to unravel.  “Yeah, I want it.”

Steve wants it _bad_.

Sam pulls him back in for a few more minutes, just so it doesn’t feel like their rushing into anything.  He parts Steve’s lips and sucks on his tongue.  He nibbles at Steve’s bottom lip, then the top one, letting Steve feel the scratch of his beard.  With an arm around Steve’s waist Sam takes a step backwards and Steve follows, chasing Sam’s mouth.  They keep going like that, one step at a time, like dancing, until Sam is nudging open his bedroom door and inviting Steve to take the first steps inside.

Sam has a big bed.  Must be a king, with plenty of room for two.  Steve knows Sam now, and he knows his bed has a nice firm topper on it.  Good for your back, and to keep away falling nightmares. 

Good for getting fucked into.

Sam wraps his arms around Steve from behind, kissing his neck and rubbing into the curve of his ass.

“I wanna be in that bed,” Steve says.  He puts his hands over Sam’s, pulling him down so he can palm over Steve’s cock.  Feel how hard he is.  How much Steve wants him.

“We’re gonna get there,” Sam replies, turning Steve around, “Got a couple of steps to get through first.”

Steve sighs, happy, when Sam guides his hands to his chest so Steve can help him with his buttons.

On work days Sam dresses like he’s from the ‘40s, more even than Steve does nowadays.  Belt, tie, ironed shirt, clean white t-shirt underneath.  Familiar and still brand new when Steve helps him take it all off. 

Steve is only in a t-shirt, his jacket left on an offered hook somewhere in the foyer.  Everything he’s wearing has a SHIELD logo stamped on it somewhere, an extra set of workout clothes he keeps stashed in a locker.  He came to Sam’s straight from a mission debriefing.  When he got here he was underdressed.  Not anymore. 

Sam tugs the shirt over Steve’s head and pushes his running pants to the floor.  Both bare, Sam pulls Steve back into his arms and they kiss, skin to skin.  Sam drags his hands down Steve’s spine, palming his ass, possessive and exploratory.  Steve’s breath is already coming heavy as he rests his forehead against Sam’s temple.

Steve is supposed to be the strong one, but it feels like Sam is the only thing keeping him on his feet.  He’s got heavy muscles in his thighs, his back, and his chest.  The kind you get from working hard for a long time.  Steve can’t stop touching, imagining, wanting.  He wants Sam to hold him down.  Open him up-

“Fuck me,” Steve begs, frantic, “You have to fuck me, Sam, I _need_ it-need _you_ -please please _please_ -“

“Shhh, baby,” Sam soothes him, stilling Steve’s hands against his chest, “I’m gonna give you everything you need.”

Sam lays him out flat on the bed, crawling after him until they can lay flush, shoulder to knee.  Sam’s weight is pressing Steve into the mattress and it’s a relief.  It’s a fucking relief and when Sam shifts just enough to grind their bare cocks together Steve’s eyes roll back in his head with the pleasure of it.  

“Lemme tell you what I’m gonna do,” Sam murmurs in Steve’s ear, still pinning him to the bed, warm and solid, “I’m gonna roll you over, get my mouth on that sweet, sweet ass of yours.  I’m gonna kiss you open, baby, get you all nice and wet and ready for me.  Gonna make you come, just like that.”

Steve whines, certain he’s going to come right now just from the filthy promise of Sam’s words.  His cock is so hard it _hurts_.  He’s throbbing all over, the same bone deep ache that he’s been lugging around since the ice only now it’s not buried deep under his lungs its bright and sharp just below his skin and Steve is going to _burst_. 

“Please,” is all he can whimper, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes.  It’s like draining a wound, hot and bitter tracks down his cheeks leaving him raw but finally ready to defrost.  “Please, I _need_ -“

“I know what you need,” Sam rumbles, pressing a kiss to Steve’s temple, to the pulse behind his ear, to the tendon in his neck, “You’re gonna get it.  I’m gonna fill you up, just like you want.  You’re gonna get fucked so right, baby.”

Steve cries out, a cracked, wounded sound, as he ejaculates untouched. 

His ears ring and his dick twitches as he spills white all over his belly. 

 _Shit_ , he didn’t even need a hand. 

He flushes all the way down to his chest, embarrassed and ecstatic.  Steve is alive again and his toes curl as he savors the last electric tremors of his orgasm.  His fingers clench against the small of Sam’s back and release.  He blows the air out of his lungs in a breathy moan.

Sam is smiling when Steve opens his eyes, stroking through his hair and kissing the salt off of Steve’s cheeks.

“Whoops.”  Sam huffs a laugh. “Guess I worked you up a little fast.  It’s okay.  We don’t have to-“

“Don’t stop,” Steve pleads, breath ragged, “Do what you said.  I’m not done-I mean- _fuck_ -I’m still-“

 Sure enough, Steve’s erection has hardly flagged, despite the pool of come cooling on his abs.

“You sure?”  Sam has one hand braced on Steve’s thigh, as though he were a spooked horse that might buck at any second.

Steve leans up for a kiss.  One hand he braces on the back of Sam’s neck, fingers dragging against the grain of his close cropped hair.  The other wanders across his partners chest, thumbing over a peaked nipple and down, down, down until Steve can wrap his hand around Sam’s hard cock for the first time. 

Sam is uncut, thick and heavy in Steve’s hand.  He gives a slow drag, up and down, just to hear Sam groan.   

Steve is gonna have that _inside_ of him.

“Yeah,” Steve breathes, a dreamy smile at his lips, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

There’s a fine line of sweat gathering on Sam’s brow, just from Steve’s loose grip on his cock.  Steve isn’t the only one getting wound up.  Sam’s pupils are blown when he leans in to take Steve’s mouth in a dirty, overpowering embrace.

They only part when even Steve, with his serum enhanced lungs, can’t take another second without coming up for air. Sam is panting, but he’s far more in control than Steve.  He drags his hand from Steve’s knee up his inner thigh, until his fingers brush Steve’s cock and his thumb is pressing just behind his balls.  Steve is already shaking again when Sam dips his fingers lower, and brushes against his rim.   

“Roll over,” Sam orders.  Steve doesn’t have to be asked twice.

Sam tugs the bed covers down underneath them so that Steve rolls onto clean white sheets.  Sam tucks a pillow under his head, and Steve smiles at the gentleness of it. 

Sam drags his hands down Steve’s shoulders, pressing hard and digging into tense muscle with his fingers.  His thumbs line up on either side of Steve’s spine and push, all the way down until he’s working the small of Steve’s back, draining the tension from his frame and leaving nothing but arousal.  Steve is limp against the mattress, but his cock is leaking onto the sheets.

Sam parts Steve’s cheeks, teasing his fingers at the top of his ass and Steve is lit up with shame and desire.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Sam says as Steve shivers, exposed to the cool air, “Just look at you.”

Sam dips in, licking across Steve’s hole so soft and light it’s almost a kiss and Steve shudders, head to toe.

“So gorgeous,” Sam murmurs again.  He thumbs over Steve’s rim just to watch him twitch, before he ducks back down and starts to tongue fuck him for real.

Steve is worried he’s gonna rip a hole in Sam’s mattress cover.  It’s a legitimate concern given how tight his fingers are wound into the bed sheets, wrenching at the material with every experimental jab of Sam’s tongue against his clenched hole.  Steve is squirming, _moaning_ , but he’s waited too long to feel embarrassed as Sam eats him out with vigor.

“Oh god- oh _fuck-_ “ Steve can’t keep it together.  Sam’s hands are everywhere, caressing his inner thighs, petting over his back, always circling back to cup his ass, holding him open.  Steve’s breathing comes in sharp pants as his body surrenders its tension and Sam penetrates him in deep, swirling curls of tongue.

“There you go,” Sam praises him breathlessly when he pulls back.  Steve tries to follow, getting his knees pulled under himself so he can rock his hips back, searching blindly for Sam’s mouth.  Sam doesn’t make him wait, tugging him close and pressing wet open mouth kisses to Steve’s spasming rim.

It’s getting messy.  Sam wants Steve wet and open for his cock, and that’s what he’s gonna get.  Steve whimpers as cooling saliva drips down to his balls.  Steve didn’t think of the consequences when he got up on his knees, namely that he can no longer grind his aching dick into the mattress.  He’s suspended, aching, with no friction to speak of.  Steve can only bury his face into his pillow and scream, tortured by the twisting of Sam’s tongue in his ass and the occasional bead of precome dripping from his cock onto the bed.

“I’ve got you,” Sam mutters in between filthy kisses.  Steve feels the press of fingers behind his balls, searching strokes along his perineum that make him writhe against the mattress.  Steve rides back against Sam’s mouth and Sam rewards him, shoving his tongue in as far as it will go and pressing his thumb into something below his sac that makes Steve see stars. 

 Steve’s second orgasm is no less surprising than the first, though Sam did promise he would come just from getting rimmed.

Steve is learning to trust Sam’s promises when he makes them.

Steve’s thighs shake and he hears the warning squeak of pillow case seams being strained beyond their limit by his punishing grip as his cock jumps and spits for a second time that night.  Sam has mercy and puts a hand on his cock at last, giving Steve a few tugs to coax him through the aftershocks.  Steve loses himself for a minute thrusting into the circle of Sam’s fingers, reveling in the intimate touch.

The next sound to filter through Steve’s haze of euphoria is the click of a plastic cap.  Sam’s hand eases off his dick, and Steve hears the tell tale squelch of slick being squeezed from a bottle.

“Not wastin’ any time, I see,” he mumbles with a rueful grin as Sam spreads lube over his fingers. 

“You want to slow things down you just say the word,” Sam offers.  Steve spreads his knees in response, offering himself shamelessly.  He feels a deep seated satisfaction when Sam makes a hungry sound in the back of his throat. 

Cool, slick fingertips lave over his fucked out hole. 

“Damn,” Sam curses under his breath, “You barely even need it, baby.”

Steve grinds back and Sam proves his point by pushing two fingers inside him.  There’s stretch, and burn, but the resistance is cursory and Steve trembles with the ache and the simultaneous need for more.  He whines through clenched teeth as Sam starts to flex and scissor him open. 

“Yeah, gorgeous,” Sam encourages, petting up and down Steve’s spine, “Keep making those pretty sounds for me.”

As if Steve could hold them back.  His defenses are completely shot.  He left his built up tolerance for pleasure in 1945, along with his shame and his lasting time, apparently.  Sam crooks his fingers and rubs against Steve’s prostate and he almost comes again, moaning raggedly. 

“You like that?” Sam asks, pressing into the spot again. 

Steve loves it.  Too much.  He can’t-he _can’t-_

“No more,” he begs, even as he ruts back against Sam’s fingers, “Just…fuck.  Just slick me up.  I need you.  Need to get fucked.”

Sam blows all he breath out of his lungs, pressing his forehead to the small of Steve’s back.  He moans and Steve realizes he’s squeezing the base of his cock with his dry hand, trying to keep himself from coming. 

Steve’s face must be flag red.  He’s never been embarrassed to ask for what he wants but it’s been so long, and he’s hasn’t affected another person like this in decades.  It’s a heady power despite his needy display.

Sam gathers himself, pulling his fingers from Steve’s ass with a final swirl to spread the lube everywhere it needs to go. 

“You’re gonna do me in, talking like that,” Sam murmurs over the crackling of a foil condom wrapper, voice warm and ragged. 

“What a way to go,” Steve jokes weakly, straining to listen as Sam rolls the condom over his dick and slicks himself up.  All joking goes out the window when Steve feels a hot weight slide into his crack and he realized it’s Sam’s cock, grinding against his ass.  The head catches on his rim and Steve gasps.

“Ready for me?” Sam asks one last time, and Steve can only nod frantically.

Sam steadies himself with one hand on Steve’s hip.  The other he uses to guide the head of his dick to Steve’s slick hole.  Steve braces himself for the first sweet press, arms shaking as he does his best to hold himself up.  Sam eases in, fingers digging into the flesh of Steve’s waist as he drives past the first ring of tight resistance.  Steve chokes as Sam slips past his rim and sinks into him at last.

Oh _god_ , he’s so full.  He’s so full and Sam is holding him so tight as he pushes in and Steve can’t _breathe_ but at the same time it feels like he’s finally taking in oxygen for the first time in seventy years.

“Okay?” Sam asks, voice strained as he bottoms out.

“Yeah,” Steve sobs, “Oh god _yes_.  Fuck me, baby.  Fuck me fuck me _fuck me-“_

Sam draws out and slams back in and Steve screams as he comes for a third time, really making a mess of Sam’s clean sheets.

All he knows for the next fifteen seconds is light and ecstasy and the thick, satisfying _stretch_ of Sam inside him.

When Steve comes down Sam is waiting, still seated in his ass and curled over Steve’s back.  He’s got one hand curled around Steve’s throat.  Not squeezing.  Not threatening.  Just present.  Bracing.  Sam knows better than to ask if Steve is still good to keep going.  Steve is actually going soft this time, dick drooling its last onto the bed but he’s not done being touched, and he’s not done touching.

“The neighbors are gonna call the cops on us,” Sam murmurs, sucking kisses into the curve of Steve’s neck, “You should have told me you were a screamer.”

“Sorry,” Steve winces, still panting.  Sam laughs.

“Jesus,” he chuckles as he shifts inside of Steve, still hard and aching, “Don’t be.”

When the worst of the sensitivity passes Steve grinds back against Sam, inviting him to pick up where he left off.  Sam ruts into him, short and shallow fucks that get more fluid as Steve relaxes and Sam starts to lose himself in the rhythm of it.

Steve knows he’s gotta be tight.  He’s always been, ever since the serum.  Buck always used to say-

Well, Steve knows he’s tight. 

“ _Shit,_ baby you feel so good,” Sam groans against Steve’s back, fucking into him deep and needy.  Steve lets his head fall, finally spent, and just lets the tingling overstimulation of Sam’s thrusts wash over him as he rests on his elbows.  

“Want you to feel good,” Steve parrots, his blood singing with endorphins.  Sam strokes his flank, kisses landing across Steve’s shoulders haphazardly. 

“I do,” Sam promises, “You’re so good for me.”

Steve wants to be good.  Steve wants Sam to feel the same overwhelming, mind numbing kind of amazing that he does right now.  He clenches down, and Sam moans as he pushes through.  His hand slides from Steve’s throat to his shoulder, bracing himself for the last few desperate thrusts.  Steve plants his knees and takes it, whimpering after every sweet, brutal hit against his prostate.

“God _damn,_ Steve,” Sam swears, slamming into Steve once, twice, three times before stilling as he comes, filling the condom with a broken groan.

Steve waits, doing his best to work Sam through his orgasm.  He finds the hand Sam still has anchored on Steve’s shoulder and winds their fingers together, pulling him forward a few inches so Steve can press a kiss to Sam’s knuckles.  Sam gives a light shiver when he feels it, coming back to himself one limb at a time.  He releases his grip on Steve’s hip and Steve can feel the blood flow returning to the fingerprint indents. 

Sam takes his weight off of Steve, carefully pulling out.  Steve still winces, but Sam doesn’t go far, rolling Steve onto his back and kissing him, making up for the strange and uncomfortable feeling of emptiness.  Sam ties off the condom and throws it away, and they return to kissing until heart rates have slowed and trembling need has finally settled into warm contentment.

“Good?”  Sam asks, leaning up on his elbows.  Steve grins, still touching his partner with both hands. 

“So good.”

Sam disappears for a second, reemerging from the en suite with a warm washcloth.  He runs it over Steve’s stomach, and flips a clean corner to gives Steve’s face and neck a quick wipe down, getting rid of the worst of the sweat.  He offers the cloth to Steve, who cleans between his thighs and gives it back so Sam can toss into a hamper in the corner before climbing back into bed.  They settle, Steve laying half on top of Sam, their feet tangled under the covers.  Steve traces the curve of Sam’s ribcage, enjoying the sharp scent of their exertion and the soreness of his body before the serum can take it away.

“I needed that,” Steve murmurs, resting his head over the steady thud of Sam’s heartbeat, “Thank you.”

“Right back at you,” Sam replies, “Let’s do it again sometime.”

They both laugh, soft and worn out puffs of breath.    

“S’been too long,” Steve mumbles.  His eyelids are growing heavy.  “Forgot how good it feels.”

“You had a hell of a dry spell,” Sam agrees, stroking up and down Steve’s back, “Wish you’d had somebody to take care of you, baby.  These last couple years.”

“Didn’t feel safe,” Steve slurs, nuzzling into Sam’s chest, “Not safe enough.”

Sam’s arms tighten around Steve infinitesimally.  Lips press to Steve’s sweat soaked hairline.

“You’re safe with me,” Sam promises.  That’s his serious voice.  His promise voice, and Steve loves him a little bit for it.

Steve is drifting, warm and sleepy, but he smiles against Sam’s chest. 

“I know.” 


End file.
